This is going to be a quick, short and sweet update. But it’s vitally important to get the word out about this!

It was announced a few days ago that the Senate has completely SLASHED TO ZERO the meager funding allotted to ME/CFS research in next year’s budget. ME/CFS is the ONLY disease to have its entire budget taken away. But, it is possible to change this if enough outrage is heard.

We only have a few days to turn this around. So, I beseech you all to send the attached graphic to the following email addresses asking them to stop this. Every ME/CFS sufferer in the world will thank you, as will I.

I shot this self portrait a week or two ago after enduring months of worse-than-usual depression. Some was due to outside influences, bad news, being sick and other things that any normal, healthy person would feel depressed about. But a lot of it was that irrational, heavy, demanding, life-draining depression that is clinical depression. This is not feeling sad about things that you should feel sad about. This is round-the-clock, punishing joylessness, sucking the beauty out of everything, leaving all around you colorless and meaningless. This is clinical depression.

I’ve battled this beast since it first started manifesting in my early teens. It took me some time before I learned that what I was feeling was an actual condition, a potentially solvable problem, not just a bad mood that hung around for years. I’ve also tried more remedied to it that I can recount; anti-depressants, therapy, energy work, supplements, yoga, getting more exercise (before I had ME; over-doing exercise now could do me great harm), self-help books, seminars, journaling, art therapy… on and on and on.

And it still clings.

I decided to start a series specifically addressing mental illness; clinical depression and anxiety in particular, since those are the two I fight with most. I manage them, sometimes it’s better, sometimes it’s worse. Sometimes I want to just die. I don’t know if it will ever go away completely, thus the series title Eternal Storms.

I identify with Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, with his constant dark cloud covering just him. I’m sure that was subconsciously part of the inspiration for this piece. When I’m going through a bout of depression, this is what it feels like to me. A dark storm raging round my head, that only I see and feel. It makes the idea of asking for help feel pointless; even if I break up this cloud, another will come. And the social stigma of admitting you need help at all, let alone help with your mental health, makes it all the worse. If I’m having a week where I have to talk myself into continuing to live each day, I can’t talk about it except for a few select, very trusted friends who have also been there, as well as my therapist.

I shot this self portrait as a way to work through the cloud I was under, yes, but more importantly, to directly address depression and its stigma. Admitting you have or struggle with depression doesn’t make you weak or unworthy. It doesn’t make you a bad person. It doesn’t mean you’re not trying hard enough, eating right or getting enough exercise. It just IS. And society needs to learn to stop judging those who do manage to ask for help.

The alternative is that we suffer in silence with our tormentor. And that can kill.

Joel Robison happened to put up an insightful blog about his own battle with depression recently, which was a happy coincidence. I’m very glad for people like him who will stand with me and admit that yes, we have depression. It may not make sense to you, you may not understand it, it might *gasp* make you uncomfortable, but that doesn’t mean it will go away.We are no less human that you. We did not ask for this fight. This is not an attention-seeking behavior. This is real, this illness is out for blood. This is just our fight. This matters. And it can be won.One storm at a time.

This series is dedicated to all the others who fight this battle with me every day. You are all so strong and so brave. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.